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bottom_dracoTitle: Baying At the Moon (Working Title)
Author: Gwen Malfoy
Summary: The life and times of Draco Malfoy, through obsession, prostitution, and possession.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Draco/Harry, Draco/OMCs, Harry/Ginny,
Warnings: Blood-letting, weird sex, severe angst, attempted suicide, prostitution, self-mutilation.
Soundtrack: Jack Off Jill‘s “Star No Star“, “Nazi Halo“, The Distillers’ Coral Fang record
__________________________
Chapter 1: Obsession
Holy eyes
I never knew I’d beg down at your feet
Hold on tight
I never knew I’d know much more than this
Open skies
The wave of pain, the scent of you is bliss
Hungry eyes
They stare at me, I know, I know
Don’t go
-The Distillers “The Hunger”
Draco Malfoy, at the ripe old age of seventeen, was still a virgin the first time he had sex with Harry Potter.
It scared him, what they had, because it was far too intense to be safe. But he threw himself into it with a reckless abandon that he would later come to regret. After all, he kept coming.
He had complete and utter faith that Harry was as wrapped up in it as he was, even though Harry was the one who wanted to keep them a secret and went on dating Parvati Patil.
Draco watched them in the halls, silent as Harry’s fingers curled around Parvati’s in a familiar, comfortable way he knew he’d never experience. He thought about doing something to sabotage them several times, but, he told himself, he didn’t need companionability or easiness--he had passion.
*****************************************
When Harry took out a long, ceremonial dagger one night when they were sitting together in the uneasy and hyper-charged prelude to sex, Draco didn’t hear Harry’s request the first time.
“Where’d you get that?” Harry glanced down at the dagger.
“Lupin sent it to me. It belonged to my godfather.” He twirled it between his fingers, looking at the floor for a moment, before lifting his eyes back to Draco.
“So, can I?”
“Can you what?” Draco asked, shifting restlessly in his seat and unbuttoning his robes.
“Use it.” Draco shot him an annoyed look and started tugging at his tie.
“To do bloody *what*, Potter, slice carrots?”
“To mark you.” Draco stopped dead for a moment and looked at the other boy, startled.
“What?” Harry looked down again.
“To mark you. So you won’t--forget.” Draco laughed incredulously.
“That’s not bloody likely, Potter.” Harry took Draco’s wrist and pulled him closer. He held the dagger out and traced the flat of the blade over Draco’s cheek.
“Not too deep.” He whispered, stepping closer. He pressed his mouth to Draco’s for a brief moment before sliding the blade between the buttons of Draco’s shirt and pulling, sending the button clattering off into a corner of the room. He began to undo Draco’s belt, brushing their lips together minutely.
“Not too deep,” Draco sighed in weary agreement when Harry slid his fingers into his trousers. The shirt slid from his shoulders.
Harry stepped back, smiling in satisfaction. He cocked his head to the side, examining Draco.
“Where, do you reckon?” He asked quietly, almost to himself. He put a hand on Draco’s chest and splayed his fingers. “Over your heart?” Draco moaned quietly.
“Quit fucking around before I change my mind, Potter.”
“Turn around.” Draco turned, a shiver running up his spine.
“I think here.” Harry said, running the blade lightly over Draco’s lower back. He trailed his fingers down the slope of his spine. “But not too deep.” He said, pressing the blade into Draco’s flesh.
Draco trembled as Harry worked, the rusty scent of blood flooding his mind. Finally, Harry put a steadying hand on his shoulder and said,
“There, it’s done.” Draco let out a shaky breath.
“How does it look?”
“I can’t tell, you prat, it’s covered in blood.” He cast a cleaning charm over the wound. Draco heard Harry’s breath catch as he leaned back and examined it. “It’s perfect.” He breathed.
“What is it?” Draco asked, twisting back to have a look.
“A lightning bolt, of course.” He smiled with no small amount of bitterness. “My own Dark Mark.”
“Well, that’s not bloody fair, Potter. I can’t do the Malfoy crest, it’d take hours.”
“Do you want to?” Harry asked. Holding the dagger out to him. “Use it, I mean?” Draco wrapped his fingers around the handle, his breath catching in his throat.
“Okay.” He sat back as Harry undressed, considering what to do. Pentagram? Too cult-ish. A “D“? Too simplistic. Pureblood symbol? No, that wouldn’t work, Harry wasn’t a pureblood.
Finally, he called Harry, who was sitting on the floor and watching him with an unreadable expression.
Fifteen minutes later, Harry had the intricate integration of their initials carved into his skin between his hipbone and navel.
***************************************
For just a moment, Draco had considered the Dark Mark, but had decided he hardly needed to give Harry anymore reason to distrust him.
He wanted to tell Harry that he was a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, but was under strict instructions to keep a closely-guarded secret. Draco knew he was going against everything his father had ever taught him, but he couldn’t handle the thought of having to kill Harry one day.
***************************
Author notes: I wanted Draco to do a heartagram, ala Ville Vallo, but I figured that that wouldn't really make sense. Anyway, feedback would be *greatly* appreciated and probably conducive as to whether or not I finish this, so *please* do.
Author: Gwen Malfoy
Summary: The life and times of Draco Malfoy, through obsession, prostitution, and possession.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Draco/Harry, Draco/OMCs, Harry/Ginny,
Warnings: Blood-letting, weird sex, severe angst, attempted suicide, prostitution, self-mutilation.
Soundtrack: Jack Off Jill‘s “Star No Star“, “Nazi Halo“, The Distillers’ Coral Fang record
__________________________
Chapter 1: Obsession
Holy eyes
I never knew I’d beg down at your feet
Hold on tight
I never knew I’d know much more than this
Open skies
The wave of pain, the scent of you is bliss
Hungry eyes
They stare at me, I know, I know
Don’t go
-The Distillers “The Hunger”
Draco Malfoy, at the ripe old age of seventeen, was still a virgin the first time he had sex with Harry Potter.
It scared him, what they had, because it was far too intense to be safe. But he threw himself into it with a reckless abandon that he would later come to regret. After all, he kept coming.
He had complete and utter faith that Harry was as wrapped up in it as he was, even though Harry was the one who wanted to keep them a secret and went on dating Parvati Patil.
Draco watched them in the halls, silent as Harry’s fingers curled around Parvati’s in a familiar, comfortable way he knew he’d never experience. He thought about doing something to sabotage them several times, but, he told himself, he didn’t need companionability or easiness--he had passion.
*****************************************
When Harry took out a long, ceremonial dagger one night when they were sitting together in the uneasy and hyper-charged prelude to sex, Draco didn’t hear Harry’s request the first time.
“Where’d you get that?” Harry glanced down at the dagger.
“Lupin sent it to me. It belonged to my godfather.” He twirled it between his fingers, looking at the floor for a moment, before lifting his eyes back to Draco.
“So, can I?”
“Can you what?” Draco asked, shifting restlessly in his seat and unbuttoning his robes.
“Use it.” Draco shot him an annoyed look and started tugging at his tie.
“To do bloody *what*, Potter, slice carrots?”
“To mark you.” Draco stopped dead for a moment and looked at the other boy, startled.
“What?” Harry looked down again.
“To mark you. So you won’t--forget.” Draco laughed incredulously.
“That’s not bloody likely, Potter.” Harry took Draco’s wrist and pulled him closer. He held the dagger out and traced the flat of the blade over Draco’s cheek.
“Not too deep.” He whispered, stepping closer. He pressed his mouth to Draco’s for a brief moment before sliding the blade between the buttons of Draco’s shirt and pulling, sending the button clattering off into a corner of the room. He began to undo Draco’s belt, brushing their lips together minutely.
“Not too deep,” Draco sighed in weary agreement when Harry slid his fingers into his trousers. The shirt slid from his shoulders.
Harry stepped back, smiling in satisfaction. He cocked his head to the side, examining Draco.
“Where, do you reckon?” He asked quietly, almost to himself. He put a hand on Draco’s chest and splayed his fingers. “Over your heart?” Draco moaned quietly.
“Quit fucking around before I change my mind, Potter.”
“Turn around.” Draco turned, a shiver running up his spine.
“I think here.” Harry said, running the blade lightly over Draco’s lower back. He trailed his fingers down the slope of his spine. “But not too deep.” He said, pressing the blade into Draco’s flesh.
Draco trembled as Harry worked, the rusty scent of blood flooding his mind. Finally, Harry put a steadying hand on his shoulder and said,
“There, it’s done.” Draco let out a shaky breath.
“How does it look?”
“I can’t tell, you prat, it’s covered in blood.” He cast a cleaning charm over the wound. Draco heard Harry’s breath catch as he leaned back and examined it. “It’s perfect.” He breathed.
“What is it?” Draco asked, twisting back to have a look.
“A lightning bolt, of course.” He smiled with no small amount of bitterness. “My own Dark Mark.”
“Well, that’s not bloody fair, Potter. I can’t do the Malfoy crest, it’d take hours.”
“Do you want to?” Harry asked. Holding the dagger out to him. “Use it, I mean?” Draco wrapped his fingers around the handle, his breath catching in his throat.
“Okay.” He sat back as Harry undressed, considering what to do. Pentagram? Too cult-ish. A “D“? Too simplistic. Pureblood symbol? No, that wouldn’t work, Harry wasn’t a pureblood.
Finally, he called Harry, who was sitting on the floor and watching him with an unreadable expression.
Fifteen minutes later, Harry had the intricate integration of their initials carved into his skin between his hipbone and navel.
***************************************
For just a moment, Draco had considered the Dark Mark, but had decided he hardly needed to give Harry anymore reason to distrust him.
He wanted to tell Harry that he was a spy for the Order of the Phoenix, but was under strict instructions to keep a closely-guarded secret. Draco knew he was going against everything his father had ever taught him, but he couldn’t handle the thought of having to kill Harry one day.
***************************
Author notes: I wanted Draco to do a heartagram, ala Ville Vallo, but I figured that that wouldn't really make sense. Anyway, feedback would be *greatly* appreciated and probably conducive as to whether or not I finish this, so *please* do.
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no subject
Date: 2004-05-18 03:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-05-18 04:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-05-18 05:45 pm (UTC)Poor Draco!!!
Date: 2004-05-18 10:07 pm (UTC)but plz don´t make draco suffer so much!!!!!
I like angst with happy ending!!!
I wish that Harry´ll love him in the end. plz make them love each other...
*begs*